


The Kid Outlaw

by yeouchie



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, An Excessive Use of The Oxford Comma, Dubious Science, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Witchcraft, Young Arthur Morgan, like so minor, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29291382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeouchie/pseuds/yeouchie
Summary: Arthur messes with a witch (which you should never do) and gets himself turned himself into a kid. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan & Van der Linde Gang, Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51





	1. Fuck With A Witch

Witches are not someone you want to mess with, Arthur knew that now, looking down at the gigantic cattleman revolver in his hands. Another glass bottle whizzed past his head and smashed into the tree next to him, staining the tree and gradually turning the bark green. He had gotten himself into this situation simply by riding too close on his horse and staring too long at the strange, spindly woman. The only warning he received before being hit with a glass bottle was a,  _ “You want to act like a child do you?! Be my guest!” _ Now his horse, little more than a pony, and he, little more than a child, were in a bit of a pickle.

“Weren't you even taught that staring is rude? Children like you need to be taught some manners!” The witch cackled manically as she went to gather more bottles for yet another onslaught.

“Shut up, will ya!” Feeling brave, Arthur rushed from behind his hiding place and fumbled with the cattleman revolver, shooting a round at the woman. Arthur rushed back to the other side of the fence. He hoped he at least hit her once. And based upon her scream of complete agony, he considered it a success. He was too short to see over the fence, much to his chagrin, so he peeked around the corner to see the corpse of the once powerful witch. Or, what he hoped was a corpse.

Not wanting to stick around and find out, Arthur hopped on his (thankfully proportionality sized) pony and galloped off back to camp. The ride was long, which, unfortunately, gave him time to think. His clothes had shrunk down with him, hadn’t they? So had his horse’s saddle. So why is it his weapons still remained the same size? Something about the steel? Or was it the fact it was a weapon?  _ A plothole of some kind? _ Arthur, confused at his last thought, decided that thinking was for losers and he should think of other, more cheerful things. Like dogs. Arthur liked dogs. Cats, cats were good, too. But you had to be gentle with them and gain their trust first. Something he apparently wasn’t very good at, as most cats tended to avoid him. Wait-- where had this train of thought come from? Oh God, his thinking was immature, too! 

Pushing down the instinct to start crying out of sheer panic, Arthur noticed he was only a mile away from camp. Now, since hindsight tends to be an adult attribute, Arthur didn’t even think about how the gang might react to little kid on a pony, galloping into camp like he owns the place. Arthur also did  _ not _ consider how he might even begin to explain how he reached this size. So what did Arthur do when he recognized he was only a mile away from camp, you ask? 

He rode faster.


	2. The Night Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m still not a writer, unfortunately.

Bill hated guard duty. He especially hated  _ the night shift.  _ Despite this fact, he was nearly always chosen for it. Given, he does spend most of his days drinking and doing nothing  _ except _ when he gets chosen for guard duty. He still didn’t like it. Nevertheless, he had a job, and he’ll be damned if he lets himself fail at the one job he’d been given. So, when he hears the clopping of hooves in the distance he does his absolute best to play the menacing outlaw, (not that it took that much effort on Bill Williamson’s part.)

“Who’s there?!” Bill cocked his rifle, ready to fire if need be.

“It’s Arthur, dumbass!” Came an unexpectedly squeaky voice from the treeline.

Bill started back, fumbling to keep a grip on his rifle. “WHAT THE HELL?!” Barely keeping himself from falling flat on his ass.

A small child on an equally small horse rode by, laughing— _ giggling _ —at him. Seemingly taunting him as he rode past and into the camp.  _ Great. Just what I needed today…  _ Bill thought as he wearily ran after the intruder.

* * *

Once in camp, Arthur hops off his horse and makes a mad dash for Dutch’s tent, (as fast as his little legs would carry him anyway). Ignoring the  _ “STOP THAT KID!” _ from Williamson, and weaving through legs and snatching arms, he rushed through the closed flaps of Dutch’s tent.

Knowing they wouldn’t dare to enter a sleeping bear’s cave, Arthur forced his shoulders to relax. Heaving, Arthur stepped slowly up to a sleeping Dutch, already knocked out for the night. Molly is nowhere to be seen, but that’s to be expected.  _ Probably out drinking again,  _ Arthur thought sadly. He didn’t like seeing them argue, feeling much worse about it now that he’s a child; his emotions seeming too big for his body. Pushing the thought and accompanying emotions aside, Arthur tapped Dutch’s wrist.

“Dutch? Can you wake up, please?” Whispered Arthur quietly, feeling bad for waking Dutch. He wasn’t afraid of him, mind you. Arthur learned long ago that Dutch can be trusted, that Dutch would never hurt him.

Still mostly asleep, Dutch mumbled, “...Arthur? H’ve a nightmare, son?...” Barely even opening his eyes just to let them shut again.

“Nuh-uh, did something bad.” Arthur whispered back, calming now that Dutch was with him. Dutch will make this better. He fixes everything.

Dutch lets out a sigh, putting his hand on Arthur’s and blearily blinked his eyes open, sitting up. The look of tiredness slowly dissipated from his eyes and look of non-comprehension flashed across it instead. For a second all Dutch did was stare and try to make sense of what was in front of him. When he couldn’t, he glanced around at his surroundings, confirming he was in his tent, and looked back at the child in front of him.

“Uh—,” Dutch opened his mouth to say something, most likely to question what this child was doing and where they came from, when Hosea bursted through the tent flaps, looking very angry to have been awoken at this time of night.

“Dutch, what in the hell is going on? I’m woken up in the middle of the night, everyone screaming.  _ WHY _ is everyone in camp telling me—Who’s child is that?”

“ _ ‘SEÁ _ !” Arthur rushed forward to hug Hosea, only reaching up to his legs.“It’s me, ‘Seá! It’s Arthur! An old witch lady threw bottles at me and made me short!” 

A moment goes by, maybe two, then,

_ “WHAT??”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, if you see any mistakes please tell me!


	3. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which most of camp stands and gawks.

“So let me get this straight: You ran into a witch, she threw a potion at you and your horse, you became a child, you killed her, then you came back here?”

“Yeah, tha’s what I said,” Arthur sniffed, sitting atop a chair in the middle of camp. He felt like an animal in an exhibit, what with everyone staring at him. 

Hosea narrowed his eyes at him, a calculating look in his eye he usually gets when trying to figure out someone’s game. Arthur was about to defend himself when Dutch stepped out in front of Hosea, blocking his view. He kneeled in front of Arthur and looked him eye-to-eye.

“When did Hosea and I first pick you up?” Great, now Dutch was examining him. Arthur took a deep breath.

“I was around 13 or 14, maybe older. I tried ta’ steal your pocket watch.” Arthur has the decency to look abashed at that. “You caught me n’ took me in.”

Dutch spares a quick glance back at Hosea before looking back at him, “Your first stagecoach job, what happened?” 

“It was a set-up! I couldn’t even get the box open ‘fore the law arrived! There must’ve been a’least 50 of ‘em!” Arthur held up five fingers to emphasize his point. It wasn’t his fault, and it was imperative Dutch knew this.

Dutch nearly looked convinced, and stood up, satisfied. Though, Hosea stepped up with a glint in his eye, “What were you always scared of as a kid?”

“Aw, c’mon Old Man, you really gon’ make me say it? In front of  _ the ladies? _ ” Arthur whispered that last part, absolutely mortified at the thought of revealing his worst fear is—WAS (is?) thunderstorms.

That was, apparently, the right answer because the reaction was spontaneous. The faces of his family around him brightened and most of their shoulders lost the tension they’d been holding. Some people were even chuckling, which Arthur didn’t understand as he did not, infact, reveal what he was scared of.

“Well, son,” Dutch made a move to pick Arthur up, hesitated, and put his hands back down. “Where did you say this witch was, again?”

”Up in Grizzlies, near the railroad and the end of the cr’k,” said Arthur, shimmying off the chair.

“It’s pronounced ‘creek’, Arthur,” admonished Hosea, though a fond look was overtaking his face. 

“Uh-huh, tha’s what I said.” Arthur was getting annoyed, he had a feeling that Hosea was going to milk this situation for all that it was worth. The old man had a habit of teasing him, after all.

Dutch seemingly made his mind up ’picking him up’ thing because one second Arthur was standing on the ground, and the next he was sitting on a pair of shoulders, taller than he’s ever been.

“Lenny, Javier, go see if you can find a Witch’s Hut in the Grizzlies and bring something back to verify young Arthur’s story here.  _ DO NOT _ touch any loose liquids or bottles if they aren’t sealed tight.” 

“You got it, boss.”

“Hang tight,  _ hermano,  _ we’ll be back soon.”

Arthur, still grappling at the fact that he could see the tops of everyone’s heads, nodded and gave a small wave before the men walked off to saddle their horses.

“Well, Arthur? What do you want to do until the boys get back?” Hosea said, looking up at Arthur.

“Fellers, I’m gonna be honest wit’chu… I need a nap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea from GoldenEntertainment on AO3! Y’all should definitely check out their work as well. Sorry it’s kinda short and bad, I’m not a writer at all, I just thought this was cute. More to come!


End file.
